You are a cute boy, a late teen boy, or an early twink boy, somewhere in between,
You have the body of a young man, and the face of the teen boy you still are...
And I love your face... Your smart and witty eyes, your chin and your forefront,
And your lips I love so much to taste and to caress...

I love your smooth face, so sweet to caress, and your hairs, a forest where my fingers love hiking...
I love your choice of shirts and sweatshirts, casual streetware, mirroring so well your personality...

I love you too, because you are a smart and interesting boy, a freshman and undergraduate at the University,
And you are enthousiastic and curious, critical and talkative about all what you learn and discover...
I love our endless talks, and our silences, and your smile, and our laughs, and the way you look at me...
I love to read your class assignements, your papers, and I love to discuss about your readings, about literature and philosophy, about physics and metaphysics...

I know you so well... I know how to please you, I know how to make you laugh, I know when you don't want to talk...

I know when it is time, or not, to play with you the tender games of Eros, how to caress you and how to slowly undress you and to embrace you, feeling your breathe, your warmth, and starting with you journeying along the paths of desire and pleasure...

I love to go to movie theaters or to concert halls with you, to have a dinner at a Japanese restaurant or to have a drink in a trendy café...

I love when you send me a SMS "I love you, Mark", and I answer: "Me2, me2...."

I love when you call me, late in the evening: "Mark, are you still awake ? May I come ? I feel lonely tonight..." And I love when I hear you knocking at the door, when you hug me...

Some boys I never met, some boys I found a portrait or a series on the net became part of my life, I love to look again and again to a mysterious face, to a romantic expression, to a gaze, to a visual riddle...

This portrait of Pierre by B.A. (blog les diagonales du temps) is for me a Classic, an iconic pic... I feel mesmerized by his face, by his long hairs, by his gaze, by what his face suggests and hides at the same time...

I am fascinated by what Pierre's gaze tells, expresses, mirrors...

The photographer is the only one who could unveil a part of this mystery... Who was Pierre ?

If I am correct, there was another portrait series where Pierre has short hairs... He looks more boyish, perhaps less romantic... But no less fascinating...

If I was a writer, I guess I could start a novel from Pierre's portrait...

It does not matter if what I imagine does not fit at all with reality, with who Pierre really was...

I wonder who is the intended viewer of this self-pic, of such a sensual and intimate self-pic...

Bold eyes, wet lips, so wet they were just kissed, or they dream about a kiss, a kiss from you, from me...

And such a plain, a topographic view of the milky and smooth topography of a late teen or early twink boy's body... Light and shades are sculpting his chest and torsoe, his navel, his two pink tits are the only landmarks providing caressing fingers with directions, with a goal to reach...

And there is the boxer, how long will it resist the viewer's gaze, his desire and his loving hand ?

Tell me, cute boy, you who are so focussed on your smartphone, who is the intended viewer of this self-pic ? A girl friend you want to seduce ? Or do you want to check how seducing you are, for a boy, like you ?

What is your desire ? Who do you want to be loved by ? What do you feel ? How does it feel to look at oneself, half naked, lying on his bed, waiting for the one who will love you, make love with you ?